California
by Princess Chelcy
Summary: AU. Eli moves to California and meets the local Queen Bee, Clare. Who knew that there was a dorky, book loving girl underneath all that make-up? ECLARE.


California by Princess Chelcy

**a/n; **This is my first story so I'm really nervous but also really excited. I hope you like it because I really enjoyed writing the first chapter. Hopefully there will be many more to come.

**disclaimer time! **I don't own Degrassi! If I did, it probably wouldn't be as awesome as it is right now.

( and Drianca would still be together! )

* * *

><p><strong>Hello California<strong>

"_Everybody knows there's a party at the end of the world."_

* * *

><p>How much does a panda bear weigh?<p>

Enough to break the ice!

Ha, I'm funny.

My name's Eli Goldsworthy and I have a disease that I like to call awkward teenager disorder. You'll probably grow to love it, or at least used to it. Or maybe not. That's really not my problem.

When I was sixteen, my parents decided that it would be a fun little adventure to pack up everything we own and move to California. I'm not even joking, guys. My family is kind of messed up, but in the most endearingly annoying ways. I wasn't really surprised when the whole thing happened. I'd spent the first seven years of my life loaded into a trailer while my dad, mom, and his band mates toured the country, anyway. My family was known for being unpredictable.

My dad's kind of famous, I guess. At least he used to be. That's how we have the money to just suddenly move to California. He's not that popular anymore, though. His music always kind of sucked but it just took a few years for everyone to notice. Kind of like most pop bands in today's music era.

That's how I find myself in the position I am now: loaded into my hearse and trailing after my dad's MGB, silent and pouting.

Oh yeah, I have a hearse. That probably gives you a good feel for my personality. I enjoy long walks on the beach and comic books. Lots and lots of comic books.

I honestly could not be looking forward to California any less than I am right now. I'm probably the exact opposite of all the people at my new school, but that's not really different than every other place I've been. When I think of California, I think of your stereotypical blonde bimbos in shorts and bikini tops. Unlike most guys my age, I don't find that attractive. I find it desperate and... well, tacky. The only girls who ever seem to ever pay attention to me are exactly that type. I'm one of those weird people who like girls who read and hold intellectual conversation.

So, yeah, those are pretty hard to find.

I've basically accepted the fact that I'm going to die cold-hearted and alone. Maybe I'll even have a cat or two. Nah, I couldn't take care of a cat. They need food and water. Maybe I'll just get a fish.

Fish are nice.

I briefly considered grabbing the directions that my mom had printed out for me off of MapQuest. Even if I'm not your typical man, I'm man enough to know that guys don't do directions. I've already been to our new home enough times to know the general facinity of where it is. Or at least I hope I do. Getting lost in California would really suck.

This would be my last journey from Toronto, Canada to California, thankfully. You have no idea how long and boring the trip always is. My parents don't do planes so I've had to drive down here about six times already. While I'll miss Toronto, I will certainly not miss these long car rides. They're hell for someone with a small bladder, that someone being me.

You can tell you are getting close to our new house by the increasing ammount of sand gathering on the sides of the road. Our house is freakishly close to the beaches, so close that I can walk there in less than five minutes. I can't see myself going that much, though. I like to consider myself deathly allergic to the sun.

Our new house is on a populated strip of mainland that leads to the beach. It's full of shops, hotels, and very annoying tourists. I'd hate it more if there wasn't a comic book shop right next door. That makes up for almost everything, even the orange girls. Our house is surprisingly awesome for its location. It's kind of small, sandwiched right between the comic book shop I was telling you about and a hotel the size of a castle. The hotel had been trying to buy the house for years, claiming that it was ugly, out of shape, and needed to be torn down because it was unattractive to the guests. The owners only agreed to sell it to my parents when they promised multiple times that they wouldn't even think about letting the hotel take it. I don't know why it means so much, but I'm thankful. I'd rather have an old house full of memories than live in a recently built mansion any day.

I pull my hearse - his name is Morty, by the way - into the small garage that my dad left open for me. He knows how I am about my car. I'd worked hard for him! My cousin had been getting new hearses for his funeral parlor and selling the old beat-up ones cheap so I'd gotten two jobs to raise money and buy one. I'd done it in a little less than a month, surprisingly. It's amazing how fast you get something when you really want it. Determination is key.

Sighing as I shut off the engine, I can't bring myself to go inside. This is my official home now. No more Toronto. No more of my friends.

No more Julia.

Julia. It's hard for me to ever find words that do her justice. She's kind of like the female version of me, but better. She's nice and excepting, always putting others before herself and never asking for anything in return. She'd been my girlfriend since the sixth grade, for pete's sake! You know that you're meant to be with someone when you're with them for so long. She'd been willing to do long distance but I decided that it was best for her that we just break it off. I didn't want her to be lonely in Toronto. Long distance is one thing when you're in different state, but a different country? I couldn't do that to her. I truly hope that she finds someone special. Maybe we'll even continue our friendship over the phone or by e-mail. I would really like that, actually.

I'm able to get out of the car with the thought of Julia in my head. I'll text her as soon as I get settled.

I pop the trunk and get my last two bags, both containing comic books and hardly anything else. I've got quite the collection, thank you very much. As I trudge into the house, I try to keep all the negative thoughts out of my head. Let's just say that this is a pretty hard thing for me to do. I'm a very neggative person, in case you haven't noticed yet.

I'm guessing that you probably have.

"Elijah!" I'm promptly squeezed into a bone crushing hug by my mother, "This place is pretty wicked, isn't it?"

I try to be happy for my mother, but I don't think I succeed, "It's cool, I guess."

CeCe frowns down at me, "I know that you're going to miss Toronto. Bullfrog and I are already missing it ourselves. You're going to like California, though. I promise."

"Of course he will! This place is the best thing ever!" Bullfrog - my dad - says, appearing around the corner with a grin on his face. My dad thinks everything is the best thing ever so I'm not surprsied when he says this. He's very easily amused.

I severely doubt that I'll like it here, but I force a smile. My parents kind of mean the world to me and, no, I do not care how much of a loser that makes me. They've always been there for me and they're perfect. I would never make it miserable for them here in California, or at least I'm going to try not to. I want them to have a good life.

"That's my boy." Bullfrog says, ruffling my hair.

I roll my eyes and head to my room. The next few days are going to be the longest of my life.

* * *

><p>A few days later, I once again find myself driving towards my worst nightmare.<p>

High School.

School in general has always been a terrible thing for me. I never really fit in, whether it is my snarky attitude or black attire, I don't know. It's probably a combination of both. I tend to find myself a loner with about two friends to keep me company. I have a feeling that school in California won't be that different than school in Toronto, but perhaps it will be even worse.

I don't bother trying to convince myself that it could be better. I think you and I both know that the chances of that are slim.

I would be starting Degrassi today. I didn't know much about it, but I knew enough to be worried. I'd asked around a local coffee shop – The Dot, I think – to find that it was no stranger to drama. Drama and I never really got along. I'm not surprised that the school I'm going to is full of backstabbing and secrets. All schools are.

Fuck learning; let's gossip instead.

I park Morty in a spot near the back of the school's giant lot. I can't believe they could possibly have this many students, but at the same time I can. Life likes to torture me by making sure I'm enrolled in one of the largest, most judgemental California schools in the entire state. This story just wouldn't be as funny if I went to a semi-normal school.

I still manage to attract staring, the main thing that I was trying to avoid by parking Morty so far away. Surprisingly, a lot of people judge you by your car. Funeral vehicals scream "EMO GOTH PUNK FREAK WITH A SWITCHBLADE."

I slowly make my way to my doom.

* * *

><p>The Principal of Degrassi is kind of a nut.<p>

"You must be Elijah!" He greets, smiling.

He doesn't give me time to tell him that I hate being called Elijah. He keeps plowing on in his speech, oblivious to my scowl.

"I'm Princi_pal_ Simpson, enface on the pal. While you're here at Degrassi, I want to be your friend."

I don't know whether to laugh or cry at this.

"I'm looking forward to it." I say, monotone.

"You moved here from Toronto, correct?" He asks, grabbing my record and pouring over it, "You're quite the smart cookie, bud. I'm sure you'll fit in well here!"

I raise an eyebrow, "That hearse out there?"

"Yeah?"

"It's mine."

Principal Simpson purses his lips, "At least you'll always have a friend in me."

I actually laugh now. So what if he's a little crazy? He's probably going to be the coolest principal I've ever had, in a weird kind of way.

"Can we get this started or what?"

My attention is drawn to the girl standing in the corner. It's a bit surprising that I hadn't noticed her until now, her beauty striking and her voice both melodic and sharp. Her auburn curls frame her face and the oceanic blueness of her eyes is clearly evident, even from my seat across the room. It's a bit hard to concentrate on her natural loveliness with all the make-up and product covering it up. She looks a bit like a clown with the bright red lipstick and the caked foundation smeared all over her face in a failed attempt to cover her freckles. Some people may find all that pretty, but I certainly don't. Her clothing is lacking, as well, both literally and figuratively. While I find her tight tank top and shorts a bit distracting, it's also a bit tacky.

Simpson almost rolls his eyes, "Elijah, this is Clare. She will be showing you around the school. Usually I would do it myself but I'm quite busy today. I hope you don't mind."

I don't mind _at all._

Clare eyes me coolly, "I'm sure Elijah and I will get along just fine."

"I prefer to be called Eli."

"But Elijah's such a pretty name." Clare says, giggling.

My eyes narrow, "Is that so, Clare-bear?"

Her face turns a delightful shade of red.

"Shove it."

"Gladly."

Principal Simpson looks between both of us, worried.

Clare clenches her jaw, not breaking our gaze, "Come on. We've got a lot to see and not much time."

And then she waltzes out the door.

Suddenly, I'm excited for Degrassi.

**a/n; **Yeah, that kind of sucked. I'm sorry. Hopefully I'll get better!

Three cheers for positiveness!

question of the day/week/year/month/century!

What's your favorite book in the history of the universe? Yeah, it's a random question, I know. I just finished my latest conquest - Stephen King. I love him but terrified of him at the same time - and now I'm left sad and bookless. Any suggestions? :)

Until next time, duckies!


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